


Ransomed

by CannibalCorruption



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Choking, Doggy Style, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, Gags, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Spanking, Tie Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalCorruption/pseuds/CannibalCorruption
Summary: As a barista, Ransom often comes in and orders coffee from you but this time, he wants more than just coffee. You agree to go to dinner with him and the conversation turns to sex. You inform him that no one has ever made you come before. Well, Ransom just loves a challenge...
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale & Reader, Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	Ransomed

My shift was dragging on as I brewed up a latte for an impatient businessman. I snapped the lid on and placed it up on the bar.

“Grande Caffe Latte for Jim,” I said, handing it to the man. He muttered a “thanks,” without even looking at me and rushed out of the shop. I was tired and not in the mood for anyone’s attitude but also too tired to get particularly upset.

Just as I finished cleaning up my work space, one of my least favorite customers walked in. Definitely my least favorite. A tall, chiseled, brown-haired rich guy who just reeked of “trust fund baby” sauntered up to the register. When he spotted me, he gave me a smug smirk.

“Hey, there,” he greeted. I dried my hands and went to the register.

“Hi,” I greeted back, absolutely faking a smile. “What can I get you, sir?”

“Rough day?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

Like he fucking cared. “Not at all, I’m having a fantastic day, sir,” I lied politely.

“Sir? Did you forget my name again?”

I had not forgotten his stupid name. I forgot it one time and he picked on me about it for weeks. This asshole comes in regularly and orders some of the most annoying coffee you can imagine and positively delights in pushing the limits of my fake customer service smile muscles.

“Of course not,” I replied calmly. “I just didn’t want to be unprofessional. The usual? Sir?”

He cocked his head at me. “Very cute,” he stated, looking down his nose at me. “And yes. Now, what’s my usual? I just want to make sure there’s no… mix-ups.”

This guy had seriously remembered and held against me every single time I’d ever made a mistake with his order. Which was all of twice, very early on, before he’d even settled on a “usual.”

My mouth twitched as I held the disingenuous smile. “Tall Half-Caff Soy Latte at exactly 120 degrees. Is that correct, sir?”

He smiled. “That’s it, babe.” He handed me a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you very much,” I told him, making change and dropping it into the tip jar.

“No, I mean, it’s for you,” he pressed. “Not to share with these other cockroaches.” My eyebrows raised, entirely of their own accord. I scrambled to regain composure.

“Umm,” I started, unsure of how to even deal with this, “we share our tips. It’s a, uh, rough business, you know. We have to stick together.” I started making his obnoxious drink. He moved down the bar, following me.

“You gotta share measly tips that won’t even cover the price of a breakfast at the cafe you work at?” he scoffed. “Socialism.” I didn’t respond. Like I was going to get into it with some rich brat. “Hey, what do you make working here, anyway?”

I focused my eyes on what I was doing. “Minimum wage, of course…”

“How much even is that?” he inquired nosily, not taking his eyes off me. I was getting uncomfortable. He was prying but also, this was the first time he had bothered to talk to me this much. Usually, he was on his phone while he waited for his drink. Slow day on Twitter, I guess.

“Um… Nine bucks…”

“Nine… bucks…” he mused. “That’s kind of fucked up.” Now, it was just annoying. Like he knew anything at all about how fucked up nine bucks an hour was.

“I’d be making more if we had some more…” I looked up at him and smiled, “socialism.”

He laughed. “Yeah, OK. You’re a funny one, Y/N.” I shrugged and gave him a cheesy grin. He fished something out of his pocket but I couldn’t see it behind the bar. I finished making the drink.

“Tall Half-Caff Soy Latte at precisely 120 degrees…” I said, holding it out to him, “for Ransom.”

He smiled wide and took the coffee, brushing his fingers purposefully against mine. He held out a business card to me. I took it, as it would surely be rude to refuse.

“I always like the way my name sounds on your lips,” he said. “Text me. I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night. Cancel your plans.” I was speechless; speechless, pissed off, very much annoyed, but also inexplicably intrigued.

“Oh, I’m not supposed to take personal infor–”

“No one cares,” he stated, gesturing to the empty cafe. My one coworker was out back cleaning so it really was just him and me. “And by the way, if you have to work, it’s fine, one of the other cockroaches can cover your shift. Text me your address.” He waved goodbye and walked out.

I stood there, stunned, holding his pretentious business card. I looked down at it and was heavily tempted to throw it out but something stopped me. He was the antithesis of everything I stood for and he was insufferable. However, I couldn’t help but think it would be kind of interesting. I hadn’t been on a date in over a year and I was bored of most people. I spent my evenings watching Netflix and I liked it that way. But maybe I could go on one date. Get this rich bastard to spend money on something other than himself. And it would almost be like doing my civic duty, to keep him away from other people for a few hours. And if it went badly, maybe he wouldn’t come back to the cafe and I wouldn’t have to make his stupid Tall Half-Caff Soy Latte at exactly 120 degrees ever again. I pocketed the card and finished my shift.

When I got home that night, I forced myself to text him. I was nervous. It could go terribly and he’s such an asshole. But he’s a very, very attractive asshole.

The next evening, he pulled up outside my apartment in his overly expensive-looking car and honked the horn. I went out and got in the car, having given myself a pep talk before leaving the apartment. I barely wanted to look at him but of course, I would have to.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “…You live in this dump?”

I exhaled, biting down on my tongue. I nodded slowly, half ashamed and half annoyed. “Cockroaches have to live somewhere, right?”

He laughed and started driving down the street. “Hey, I didn’t call YOU a cockroach, to be fair.”

“Nope, just my friends, I guess.”

He shrugged. “If the Raid fits…”

The car ride was mostly silent. I glanced at him occasionally and he seemed to have that smug smile plastered on his face for the entire time. We finally pulled up in front of an extravagant flat and he got out of the car. I looked around, confused, and slowly got out of the car as well.

“Uh… we ARE going to dinner, right?” I asked, seeing no restaurants in sight.

“Duh,” he replied, entering the building.

I followed him, confused. He unlocked the door to the flat and we walked in. He locked the door behind me. This, kids, is how you get murdered. I was a dumbass and he was probably going to kill me and have his servants clean up my mangled body. I hung up my jacket, accepting my fate, and glancing around. It was a really nice flat. There was a table at one side of the room, set with dinner: red wine, a roast duck, watercress salad, and some kind of fancy soup. The duck and the soup were somehow steaming hot, sitting out with candles under mood lighting.

“Oh, we’re eating… here?” I inquired, slowly following him as he made his way to the table.

“Yeah,” he told me, as if it were obvious. “Not fancy enough for you?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, no, my minimum wage ass only eats at five star restaurants, Ransom.” He laughed and sat down, gesturing for me to do the same. I followed suit. “So, did your servants make this or something?”

“Actually they did,” he stated, taking a sip of wine. “Try it – I want to know what you think.” I drank some of the wine and it was exquisite, of course. I tried the salad and it was delicious. I nodded, impressed. “When you’re at work, you talk to me a lot more.”

“Because I’m getting paid to,” I said flat-out, smiling and taking a bite of the duck.

“…Do you hate me?” he pried abruptly. I looked up at him, surprised. “I mean, that’s why you’re always faking smiles and calling me ‘sir’ at work, right?”

I paused, unsure of how to respond. Frankly, I was unsure myself. Part of me absolutely hated his annoying ass but part of me found something about him bizarrely alluring.

“Of course not,” I told him, looking down at my food.

“Yes, you do,” he insisted. “I’ve never worked a day in my life and you hate that.”

“Ransom, did you literally ask me here just so you can make fun of a low income person?” I asked, fed up. “I should have known. I thought it might be cool to chat with you and see what kind of person you are behind that douchebag sweater and designer sunglasses you always wear but I guess I was wrong. Look at the dumb poor girl. Hilarious.”

He smirked. “Now, that’s completely untrue.” I looked up at him. “My sweaters aren’t ‘douchebag sweaters.’” I huffed, annoyed, and looked back down at my food. “That was a joke. Look, I think you’re cute and I invited you to dinner. Don’t overthink it.” I sighed. “So, you wanted to get to know me, huh? Why’s that?”

“Look, I think you’re cute and I accepted your invite to dinner,” I taunted. “Don’t overthink it.”

He smiled. “I do like a challenge.” He shoveled some roast duck into his mouth. “So, you got a boyfriend?” I shook my head and he nodded, interested. “You looking for a relationship?”

I couldn’t control my facial expression, it just happened. I looked repulsed by his question; not the fact that he asked it, but the fact that I so very much did not want a relationship. He smiled, seeming to get exactly what I meant.

“Nice,” he said. “So, when was your last hook up?”

I paused, fork halfway into my mouth. He had an innocent look on his face. I continued eating and finally spoke. “Like a year ago.”

“Damn, doll!” he exclaimed, surprised. “You training to be a nun or something?”

I huffed. “I might as well. This shit’s exhausting. And EVERYONE is disappointing.”

A spark of intrigue lit up his eyes. “Disappointing, huh?” He swirled his wine around and took a drink of it. “I did say that I like a challenge.”

I drained the rest of my wine. Fuck it. Whatever. If this asshole thinks he can fuck, then let’s see it. Worst case scenario, he’s garbage and I add him to the pile of garbage lays I’ve had before. Well, worst case scenario was probably murder, I suppose. So, second worst.

“So, tell me about these hook ups,” he requested, watching me intently. “What was so disappointing?”

I poured myself more wine and he looked on, impressed. “I mean, how much time do we have? Look, suffice it to say that every guy has told me that THEY’RE going to be the one who’s finally going to get me to come. Like they’ve got some kind of magic dick or something. What a joke.”

He paused and held his hand up to stop me. “Wait, what do you mean ‘finally?’”

I rubbed my temples, regretting I’d even said anything. I shrugged and looked at him. “No man is as good to me as I am to myself – let’s put it that way.”

He balked, staring me down. “…Not even one of them?” I shrugged and shook my head. He stifled a grin and nodded. “Gotcha.”

“How about your last hookup?” I asked. “Russian hookers?”

He laughed. “Yeah, right, like I have to pay. I don’t know, she was dull. Some idiot from Tinder.”

“You are nothing if not incredibly nice, Ransom,” I told him, rolling my eyes.

“Hey, I’m just honest.” He finished his wine and poured another.

“Am I Idiot 2.0?” I asked him, amused by his bluntness.

“Nah, you’re interesting,” he replied. “And honest, too. I like that. So, I want to hear more details about these losers you fucked.”

I laughed. “Geez… there’s not much to tell. None of them could spank worth a damn and they lasted all of 30 seconds but still seemed really proud of what they did.”

He chuckled. “And you just get more interesting, Y/N. Color me intrigued.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “you’re going to be ‘the one,’ am I right?”

“You know, I think I have a good shot at the title.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. However, this was different from the other ones. This is the first one who I ever actually believed might be able to do it. I could feel the arousal welling up in my core but desperately did not want to acknowledge it.

“Well,” he said, standing up, “time’s a-wastin’. You’re done, right? Let’s get to it.”

I looked up at him, surprised and still chewing. He walked over and grabbed my hand.

“I mean, I guess…” I muttered, swallowing. He pulled me into his bedroom and pinned me up against the wall, kissing me hard. “Jesus Christ, Ransom, I’ve still got duck-mouth – this is kind of fast, don’t you think?”

“Do I look like I give a shit about either of those things?”

He kissed me again, slipping his tongue into my mouth and grabbing my ass. I’d had two glasses of wine and, to be honest, it had been a while since my last hook up and I guess I was ready for another. And for once, the outlook seemed potentially promising. He trailed kisses down to my neck and fondled my breasts. After a few moments of making out, he abruptly slid his hands up my dress and yanked my panties down to my thighs. I let out a small gasp, which amused him greatly. He ran his hand up my thigh and traced my crease with his fingers. He pressed into my folds and circled around my clit.

“Damn, baby,” he breathed, smiling, “this wet already?”

I huffed at him but swiftly cut myself off with an audible whimper as I grabbed onto his shoulders. He stared me down with those charming blue eyes, taking joy in my reactions. I breathed heavily, my knees starting to shake. He kissed me again, continuing to rub my clit.

Suddenly, he grabbed me by the arm and took me over to a big bay window. He threw the curtains open and pinned me against the glass. My face was smashed up against the glass and he was behind me, pressing himself against me. He unzipped my dress and pulled it off over my head, dropping it carelessly. He pulled my panties off as well. The glass was cold against my exposed skin. He went back to work on me with his fingers and I whined, not even caring who could see us.

“Let everyone see what a fucking whore you are,” he breathed in my ear. I was helpless to protest and didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. I started to weakly grind against his fingers. “Now, I’m gonna take a guess, you said those guys couldn’t spank for shit? So, all these times I’ve been talking down to you, you liked it. You want me to dominate you and show you what I can do, don’t you?” I didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t entirely wrong. “Oh, now you have nothing to say to me?” He pulled his hand back and shoved his fingers in my mouth. “Suck.” I complied, sucking on his fingers and tasting my own essence.

He pulled me over to his bed and I lied down on the edge of it. I kicked my heels off and he pulled his shirt off. I took my bra off, then sat up to unbutton and unzip his pants. He stepped out of his shoes and pulled his pants and boxer briefs off. Suddenly stark naked, he looked regrettably amazing. He had an incredible body hiding under those dumb sweaters this whole time. I also couldn’t help but notice that he was quite well-endowed and I wondered if I wasn’t going to be regretting this later. He pushed me over and abruptly spread my legs, kneeling down in front of me. I instinctively tried to close them, feeling overexposed, but he held them in place.

He pushed two fingers inside me and I whined, grasping the sheets. He descended on me, aggressively licking my clit as he moved his fingers in and out of me, gradually gaining speed. My whimpers grew louder. My core was burning and my pussy was greedy. I put a hand on his head, running my fingers through his hair and latching onto it. He held onto my thighs tightly, squeezing hard, ensuring bruises tomorrow. I arched my back and started to grind into him, melting under his absolute power over me. I could feel him smiling, taking pride in his actions and relishing the control. He curled his fingers just enough and started moving faster. I felt a shock of pleasure and bucked slightly against him.

He took his fingers out of me and started to trail kisses up my torso, settling on my breasts. I put my arms around his neck as he licked and sucked my nipples. He reached up and started choking me, stifling my whining. Maintaining his grip, he moved up and kissed me, our tongues entwining. I gasped and he loosened his grip long enough for me to get a full breath, and then tightened again.

He pulled back and ushered me to lie down in the center of the bed, which I did. He quickly flipped me over and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me up, ass in the air. He ran his hands from my butt up to my shoulders, sweeping under to pass my breasts once more for good measure. His erection was pressed against me as he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me back.

“Let’s see if I can live up to your spanking standards, huh?” he growled in my ear. He landed a slap on my butt cheek and paused, waiting for my reaction, which I refused to give as it did not live up to my standards. “Another?” He spanked me again, certainly holding back. “Well?” He pulled my hair again, straining my neck.

“Come on, Ransom, you can do better than–“ Suddenly, he let go of my hair and a viciously hard spank landed on my ass and I cried out.

“How’s that?” he asked, spanking me again, just as hard. “Strong enough for you, baby?” He continued the spanking, alternating cheeks, and I yelped in rhythm, grabbing handfuls of the sheets and squeezing until my knuckles turned white.

Finally, he let up. My eyes were watering as my face sunk into the sheets. He stood up and went to his closet, retrieved a tie, and returned, setting it down next to him. He maneuvered himself up behind me and teased my entrance with the tip of his penis.

“You are a really wet little slut, you know that?” he asked with a smirk. “You want this?” I nodded, still holding onto the sheets. “Say it.” I glanced back at him, still catching my breath. “Tell me what you want.”

I breathed heavily. “I want you…” I choked out.

“What do you want? And say my name.”

“…I want your cock, Ransom,” I whimpered breathlessly. “Fuck me…” He smirked and pushed himself inside me with a growl. I gasped as I took his length.

He hissed through his teeth and squeezed my hips tightly. “Shit, babe, you’re so tight… It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” I huffed at him and grabbed a pillow to put under me, holding onto it.

He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, stirring side to side occasionally, stretching me out and filling me up nicely. Pleasure shot through my body like lightning and I mewled loudly.

“I’m gonna own that title, doll,” he stated confidently, running his hands down my back and along my butt and thighs.

“Prove it,” I told him teasingly, glancing back at him with a taunting smile. “Don’t start bragging before you cross the finish line, Ransom. Rookie move.”

He chuckled and picked up the tie. He made the two ends even, holding an end in each hand, and hooked it over my head, catching it in my mouth like a horse’s reins.

“Maybe you have too much to say now,” he said, pulling the tie back taut, my head coming up with it.

He held both ends of the tie in one hand and gripped my hip with the other. His thrusts gained strength as he pounded me hard from behind. I bit down on the tie and let out some muffled moans. He used his free hand to spank me mercilessly.

“You like that, you dumb baby?” he taunted, plowing into me. “You want me to destroy this tight little pussy of yours, don’t you?” He pounded away relentlessly as my juices dripped down his balls. I moaned loudly both for mercy and for more. “I’m not gonna stop until I walk away with that title.” He fucked me faster and I gripped the pillow as tightly as I could. I started seeing stars as I could feel an orgasm forming in my core. I cried out at the top of my lungs, unable to contain it. “That’s right, come for me baby. Come on…”

Finally, with a gasp followed by a weak yelp, I came harder than I had in my entire life. He smirked and continued, pulling harder on the tie. Shortly after, he let out a loud, breathless grunt, pulling out of me and cumming all over my ass and back. I lied there gasping for breath as he flopped over beside me. He grabbed a box of tissues from the bedside table and tossed it down next to me. He cleaned himself off but I was still in a state of shock. He put his hands behind his head and looked at me, terribly proud of himself.

“Told ya,” he said, grinning.

I spit the tie out and huffed at him but couldn’t help smiling. Although, I was annoyed that he didn’t at least help clean up the mess he made on me. I struggled to do it myself and then flopped over beside him. He slid his arm under my neck, resting my head on it.

“Maybe we can do this again sometime,” he commented idly, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you asking?”

“No,” he replied obviously, looking over at me. “I’m the one with the important schedule. I’ll text you.”

I rolled my eyes and turned over, away from him, definitely ready to crash. He put his other arm around me, cuddling up behind me.

“Can I be second place, too, if I’m already first place?” he inquired playfully. My eyes widened. “Maybe we can find out in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:  
> [Writing Blog](https://cannibalcorruptionwriting.tumblr.com/)  
> [Main Blog (Mostly Self Ship)](https://cannibalcorruption.tumblr.com/)


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